HP: Transmigrating as an Obscurial

The first round of selection began, and as Vizet had anticipated, it was relatively easy.

Hovering in the air, making sharp turns, and even flying upside down — he executed each maneuver with practiced ease.

From the moment his feet left the ground, he felt completely at home in the sky.

When he finally landed after completing the round, Andre Egwu, the team captain, clapped him on the shoulder with an approving grin.

"This is the first time I've seen a freshman fly this well on a Meteor!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with admiration. "I mean, really — this year might be the most promising year for Ravenclaw Quidditch!"

Vizet smiled but remained modest. His mind drifted to his new abilities — the ancient magic he had recently unlocked. Perhaps there was a position that would allow him to fully utilize his strengths.

"I always wanted to play as a Chaser." he asked, testing the waters.

Andre's face lit up immediately. "No problem!" He gestured animatedly. "I'll make sure you're a Chaser no matter what!"

It was no secret that Andre wanted nothing more than to lead Ravenclaw to victory before he graduated. Unfortunately, the team had been struggling for years, always finishing in fourth place.

Of course, fourth place sounded much better than last place, but with only four teams competing in the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup, it meant the same thing.

For a house that adopted the colours of the sky and the eagle, Ravenclaw's repeated failures in Quidditch were nothing short of frustrating.

But now, with Vizet on board, things might finally change.

With renewed enthusiasm, Andre turned to Roger Davies, the team's vice-captain. "Have you found the right Chaser yet?"

Roger nodded and pulled over a third-year student. "Jeremy Stratton. His reflexes and accuracy are solid. A bit of training, and he'll be a great fit."

Andre glanced at the rest of the roster. "We need two Chasers, though. Anyone else stand out?"

Roger sighed. "No one ideal so far. We might have to go through the list again — at least to make sure we fill the team."

Andre suddenly grinned. "Then meet Vizet Lovegood!" He threw an arm around Vizet's shoulders. "Professor Flitwick himself recommended him! His flying is flawless!"

Roger's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Vizet? I think I've seen him around… a first-year, right?"

"You wouldn't believe it until you saw it yourself," Andre said, his excitement bubbling over. "I just put him through the first round of screening — he flew upside down and still managed to pull off every maneuver. His balance, his speed — impeccable!"

Roger's eyes lit up. "Well then, I guess we're adding another name to the list!"

Andre didn't waste any time. "Bring the Quaffle and the Bludgers! Let's get some hands-on practice going."

Within minutes, the players were up in the air again, ready for a test match.

Vizet took a moment to get used to the competition-grade broomstick provided by the team. Unlike the Meteor, this broom had far superior acceleration and stability. He could already tell it would make dodging and maneuvering a lot easier.

Andre positioned himself near the goalposts, arms crossed confidently. "Alright, here's how this is gonna go," he announced.

"Jeremy, Duncan, and I will try to take the Quaffle from Vizet."

"Jason and Roger, your job is to target him with the Bludgers."

Cho Chang, hovering nearby, frowned slightly. She raised a hand. "Can I ask… why is Vizet the only target?"

Andre chuckled. "Because I have complete confidence in him," he explained. "We'll be formulating team tactics around him in the future, so everyone needs to understand his playstyle now. That way, when we have our official training next week, there won't be any surprises."

He gave a pointed look at Vizet. "Bludgers are a serious threat during a game. This isn't just about skill — it's about testing how well you handle pressure. This drill will expose any weaknesses, and I'll adjust your training accordingly."

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The moment everyone was in position, the air buzzed with anticipation.

Vizet hovered at the center of the formation, with the rest of the team keeping a loose perimeter around him, each player roughly ten meters apart.

Roger reached for the wooden chest and flipped it open. Instantly, the two Bludgers exploded into the air like cannonballs, whistling violently as they arced overhead before zeroing in on their targets.

Andre, standing guard at the goalposts, launched the Quaffle forward with a sharp throw.

"Vizet! Catch!"

Vizet barely needed to think. His fingers closed around the ball, and in the next heartbeat, he shot forward like an arrow.

Roger, already in motion, intercepted one of the Bludgers mid-flight and swung his bat with a practiced, brutal force.

Crack!

The Bludger ripped through the air, curving sharply before hurtling straight toward Vizet. In mere seconds, the iron ball had closed the gap — less than two meters now, a heartbeat away from impact.

From the stands, Cho Chang gripped her broomstick tightly, her body tense with worry.

Jason muttered under his breath, eyes darting between the flying Bludgers. "Isn't that a bit harsh…?"

Professor Flitwick, watching from the spectator stand, had already tightened his grip on his wand, ready to intervene at the first sign of trouble.

Professor McGonagall sat beside him, adjusting her glasses, though her fingers remained clenched around the frames. Her sharp gaze never left the boy in the sky.

Oliver Wood, standing off to the side, exhaled through gritted teeth. "That's too short a distance. Most players wouldn't even have time to react. And Roger — he's a Chaser, not a Beater! Where did he get that kind of power?"

Andre barely blinked, his breath held as he watched the scene unfold.

But up in the air, Vizet was calm.

The sound of the Bludger tearing toward him was unmistakable. Even before his eyes locked onto it, his instincts had already prepared him.

Adrenaline surged through his veins, but there was no panic — only exhilaration.

With expert precision, he tightened his grip on the broomstick and leaned in, pressing the Quaffle firmly against his side. The upgraded competition broom was leagues ahead of the old Meteor, and he fully intended to take advantage of that.

Rather than slow down, he surged forward.

In a breathtaking display of reflexes, Vizet ducked low, his chest grazing the broomstick's handle as the Bludger screamed past, missing him by inches.

His movement left an afterimage in the sky.

A second later, he was already upon Andre.

The Ravenclaw captain barely had time to react before Vizet reared back, one arm drawing back the Quaffle.

Primordial Magic: Projectile-Craft.

With an almost effortless motion, he hurled the ball forward.

A ripple of energy surged through the Quaffle, leaving behind a crimson afterglow as it rocketed through the air.

Andre instinctively reached out to block it — but the ball had already slipped past him.

Whoosh!

The Quaffle sailed cleanly through the goal hoop.

From the moment of the initial throw, barely thirty seconds had passed.

A stunned silence filled the pitch.

Then —

"Vizet scores! Ten points for Ravenclaw!" Cho Chang's voice rang out, breaking the momentary shock with triumphant excitement.

Flitwick turned to McGonagall with a broad grin. "Minerva, I don't know how to thank you," he said cheerfully. "With a talent like this, we might finally take that trophy away from Severus this year!"

McGonagall, though trying to appear neutral, adjusted her glasses again with a small, knowing smile. "It's too soon to say. After all, my Potter isn't too bad either." She paused before adding with a playful glint in her eyes, "But yes — stealing the trophy would be quite satisfying."

Meanwhile, Oliver Wood stood frozen, gripping his writing board as he struggled to process what he had just witnessed.

A player that fast, that precise —

He swallowed hard before finally jotting something down:

"Fortunately, Vizet isn't a Seeker. If he were, the game would be over before it even began."

Back on the pitch, Roger flew over to Andre, smirking. "Come on, Captain. I worked so hard setting that up, and you let him score like that?"

Andre let out a low chuckle. "At that speed? You try stopping him."

Roger shook his head, still smiling. "Alright, alright. Five more minutes of this — let's see if we can make him sweat."

Jason, still dodging Bludgers, muttered under his breath. "Could've fooled me. At this rate, we should just let Vizet handle everything…"

The training session had almost turned into a one-man show.

And after today, one thing was clear —

If all else failed, Ravenclaw could always fall back on one simple strategy:

Give Vizet the ball and trust him to win the game.